


Bump in the Night

by 1lostone



Category: Pinto-fandom, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Freaky happenings, Halloween, I don't think I even have words, M/M, Nefarious Deeds, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Originally posted er... 2010?, Seriously all the slasher film cliches, Slasher Film Cliches, spooky house, spooky stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jlm121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlm121/gifts).



> 2010-  
> First, a little [ mood music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nt0mZIDP47U).  
> I'm sorry. I couldn't wait to post it. FEAST ON THE CHEESE, PEOPLE.... It'll be done by Halloween, if you'd rather wait. You know how I said I was taking a break from writing? Yeah. That was total bullshit. Blame yesterday_girl and jlm121 for shameless enabling.
> 
>  
> 
> 2016 EDIT:  
> Errrrm. I'm not sure what to say. I was going to leave this off the repost because it's just so fucking cheesy, but my friend asked for it... and I have no shame. It will be posted once every few days with the final installment on Halloween. 
> 
> I added the 'WHY THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN' obligatory author's note at the bottom. Read at your own risk. Muh. Ha. Ha. Ha....

_This is a seriously fucking bad idea._

Chris knew it was a bad idea as soon as he got his first glimpse of the place. It was kind of like if Wes Craven and Stephen King had had an illicit lovechild, and _that_ lovechild had ransacked Eli Roth’s nightmares, then decided to build a home built solely on the premise of scaring the ever-loving bejeebers out of whoever decided to visit.

He’d never actually seen that many windows looking out onto a lawn. Well, outside of a film. As Chris stood there, hitching his backpack over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but shiver.  He found himself glad that he was only staying for the weekend; a house party while Zach house-sat for some uncle or something. Zach had said that the place they were staying was a little out of the ordinary.   _Fuck._ Clearly he should have read the fine print.

A _little_ out of the ordinary?  Chris took a second to count all the windows.  Thirty-sev-- no, thirty-eight windows, dark maws that seemed to stare, looking out onto the gently sloping front lawn as though in judgment. Most of the windows had thick curtains to prevent the feeble outside light from entering.  One single window on the third floor was open, the slightest bit of light shining out into the dusk. The house itself was made out of a dark, ivy covered brick. It looked old and crumbling in spots. Chris wasn’t exactly an architect or anything, but the house looked like a modified Victorian, complete with a long, sloping roof and widow’s walk balconies on some of the upper floors. All it needed was a lone figure in a black cape and a sign that said ‘Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.’ Chris tilted his head, squinting to make sure that neither of those things were actually there.

His fingers tightened on the cold metal of the gate. His tongue licked his lips nervously as his heart beat a little faster in his chest.  There was a copse of trees huddled together on one side of the house, branches scraping slightly against the brick, and what looked like some old-fashioned outbuildings to the left of the house. Even the driveway looked uninviting, weeds poking up sporadically through the twisted, broken gravel. One lone shutter, broken at the hinge banged against a window frame slowly, short, staccato beats that echoed Chris’ thumping heartbeat.

It was creepy as fuck.

“Hey.”

Chris jumped with a squeak, whirling, his backpack catching on the metal of the gate, causing it to swing open with a slow, agonizing creak of rusty metal.The sound disguised the purely surprised yip of shock that Chris hadn’t been able to stifle. He'd been so intent on staring at the house in front of him that he hadn't even heard Zach drive up.

Zach stood there with his messenger bag, looking at Chris from over the top of his sunglasses, one eyebrow raised in amusement at Chris’ shock.  

“Jesus, Zach! You startled me!”

Zach blinked, his teeth flashing in a small quirk of a grin. “Yeah, I see that. Are you planning on staying out here all night?”

Chris frowned a little, ignoring the way that his balls had seemingly crawled up into his throat of their own accord.  He couldn’t explain exactly what he was feeling, but everything in him was screaming at him not to step foot through that gate.

Zach’s hand was warm on the back of his neck as he gave him a little push. “Well, come on then. You’re gonna be late for dinner.” Zach walked by him, pushing open the gate with his foot, taking out the earbuds on his iphone and shoving them into his pocket. Chris looked from Zach’s hunched shoulders as he walked down the driveway, over to the entwined initials that glinted as the sun finished setting.

“Hey! Wait up.”  Chris watched as Zach paused, his fingers flying over his phone as he texted someone, then slid the phone into his pocket, turning and hitching his messenger bag over onto his other shoulder.  He cocked his head and Chris hurried his step, rushing to catch up to Zach.

He couldn’t shake the nervous feeling as he walked with his friend up the path, feet crunching in the gravel. Chris felt as though he were being watched, and kept taking surreptitious glances out of the corner of his eyes at the shadowy areas near the trees.

The copse was quite thick, the dim light not allowing him to see anything clearly.  Once or twice, Chris thought he saw a glint of _something_  in the trees. He shook his head. This place was really doing a number on him.  There was no way that he saw anything- no way he saw eyes glinting malevolently in the brush as they walked by.

Instinctively moved a little closer to his friend, knowing that no matter what, Zach would never, ever hurt him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris tried to stifle a yawn as he ate the rest of his steak, chasing the last bite around his plate before setting his fork down and sitting back with a small, satisfied sigh.  Dinner had been fantastic, and had quickly turned into a party when Chris arrived, having not seen his friends in quite awhile. He’d been surprised when they had all greeted them; Zoe, Karl and John all there and as per the norm when any of them were able to get together, already drinking. Heavily.

Hell, if Chris had known that so many of his friends were around, then he wouldn’t have wasted so much time fretting about the creepy house. 

Zoe’s head was tilted back as she laughed at something Karl said, his voice lowered, face turned into her ear so that only part of his truly wicked smile was visible to the rest of the room.  Chris smirked into his glass at the slight blush that covered her cheeks. Whatever it was Karl had said must have been pretty terrible.  Zoe didn’t tend to blush all that easily. And everyone was used to Karl’s particularly perverse sense of humor.

Chris shook his head, feeling a little lightheaded. He was content to just sit back and listen to the buzz of conversation around him. Zach was talking to Chris’ left, waving his hands around as he spoke, entire face animated as he attempted to make his point.  John looked as though he was a couple of drinks ahead as he nodded at Zach and Chris finished his, not wanting to be left behind.

“---set. All I have to do is wait for...”

“Wait for what?”  Chris spoke up, his voice a little muffled as he leaned a little to his left chasing the ice in the bottom of his glass around with his tongue.  He stifled another yawn and sighed.

John started, as though he had forgotten that Chris was even in the room. There was a sudden silence around the dinner table, and Chris had a moment of déjà vu, feeling as though this had happened before.  He looked around, straightening in his chair a little.  The alcohol hit him then, and he blinked against the sudden onslaught of dizziness hanging onto the table,fingers tightening against the cool wooden surface.

“Whoa, there.” Zach was just suddenly there, hanging onto his shoulders as Chris blinked again, eyes feeling heavy as he struggled not to fall asleep.  No wonder he kept missing different parts of their conversation. Chris must have been more tired than he thought, that or the alcohol was a helluva lot stronger than he’d anticipated.

“I’m fine. Just a little sleepy, I guess.  Sorry, man. Not exactly the life of the party here.”

“No worries.” Zach smiled, and Chris forgot what he was saying as he stared a little. He opened his mouth to respond when there was a sudden, shocking crash of thunder.

Everyone in the room jumped, and the lights go out with a flicker, plunging the five of them into darkness. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room in an eerie glow, before everything went to black again.

“Oh goddammit.” John muttered under his breath. “Just what we need while staying in Amityville; the fucking lights not working. I swear to God, Zach if you’re doing this on purpose...”

“Why would I do this on purpose?” Zach sounded annoyed as he stood up, bumping into the table hard enough that the dishes rattled on the wooden surface. There was a snicker of sound from the other end of the table. A fork clattered off the plate, spilling sauce onto John's red shirt, and he began fussing over the small spot with a napkin, swearing under his breath.

Chris felt his stomach roll with nerves.  Lightning flashed, illuminating the huge bay windows that looked out towards the copse of trees. The branches were waving in the sudden wind of the storm, tapping against the glass in a way that sent shivers down Chris’ spine. The sound of the rain seemed loud in the relative silence of the room. he heard Zach walking around, banging into things in the dark and cursing a blue streak under his breath.  Normally Chris would be mocking him mercilessly for this. It was that more than anything that drove home how really exhausted he was. He yawned again under his hand.

“Aha!” There was a click and a flicker of light and Zach’s face was lit from underneath by a beam of a flashlight.  “I found a few of these in a drawer.  There were some hurricane lanterns too if we need them later.”

“Hey, Chris, sweetie? Are you okay?”

Chris swallowed, blinking at Zoe’s concerned voice. She shot a look over Chris’ shoulder, then focused back on Chris’ face.  

“Yeah. Yes, I. Sorry to be such a  loser but I guess the jetlag is catching up or something.  I’m completely fucking exhausted.”

Chris blinked again, and only barely got his hand up in front of his mouth to cover his yawn.  There was a buzz of conversation again. He caught something about playing pool and turning in early, but Chris couldn’t focus enough to really care.

He stood up.  “Can you show me where I’m going to be sleeping, please?” He jumped a little when thunder struck again, the wind pushing the limbs of the tree against the glass again. Chris had spoken to Zach, but it was Zoe whose hands wrapped around his arm, leaning into him and supporting his weight.

“Lightweight.  Come on there, captain. Maybe next time we can get you a Shirley Temple to drink instead.” Her long body was warm against his, and Chris smiled to himself, letting her teasing voice envelop him as much as her arms enveloped his body.

“Night, man. See you tomorrow.”  John gave him his customary thwack on the shoulder and Chris heard himself murmur something in response. Zoe took a flashlight from Zach.

“Night, Chris. Sweet dreams, okay?”  Chris blinked up at Zach’s smiling face.  

“Yeah. No problem. I think I’ll make pancakes or something for breakfast. Assuming I can get the power back on in this old bitch of a house.”   Chris felt Zach’s fingers brush his chin.  

Chris made a Herculean effort to throw off the dizziness brought on by too much rich food and even richer alcohol and not enough sleep the night before.  “Maybe I can just take a nap or something. I’ll set the alarm on my phone.  I really don’t want to leave you without my shining presence. Especially if you guys are doing partners for pool... I wouldn’t want anyone to have to partner up with Karl over there. I mean, unless you plan to play with handicaps and all.”

There was an injured-sounding scoff from the adjoining billiards room and the sound of several cue sticks falling off the wall onto the floor.

Zach and Chris shared a smirk, which Chris ruined by yawning again.

“If you can, that’s great. But if you sleep through the night, that’s fine too. Don’t worry about it. We don’t have much of anything planned. Zoe, you sure you don’t need some help getting him into bed?”

It was John’s turn to snicker.  Chris chose not to examine why they all turned into overly innuendo-laden children whenever they all got together like this.  

“No. I can handle him.”

“I don’t mind.” Zach smiled and Zoe grinned as her grip shifted, Zach’s sliding into place.

More snickers.  Chris just rolled his eyes, and the two of them began to walk out of the dining room.  He really wasn’t up to banter. Banter took effort. Chris didn’t even remember his backpack until they were halfway up, and by then couldn’t be fucked to go back down and get it it.  He had his phone and really, he didn’t think he’d need anything else.

Zach kept a steady stream of chatter as they made their way up the bedroom. Chris had, of course, noticed the staircase. It was a the central feature to the main foyer, curling lazily up in a spiral to the second and third floors.  Chris remembered how it towered over everything, completely dominating the room from the glimpse he’d caught of it earlier. Chris was content to listen to the rise and fall of Zach’s voice, the pitch raising and lowering like waves eddying onto a beach.

The steps were wide enough that three people could walk comfortably side-by-side.  Now, as Chris staggered up the steps, he was extremely happy that his room was only on the second floor.  Zach was telling him that the top floor of rooms were  being renovated as Chris stopped for a moment on the step, looking down with wide eyes.  He was sober again, for a moment, his brain clicking into place as his fear of heights hit him between the eyes.  Zach was oblivious to Chris’ sudden tension as he pointed out random facts about both the staircase and the paintings on the walls, using the flashlight as he gestured so that weird splashes of light hit the walls and reflected off the metal of the staircase at uneven intervals.

The spiral wasn’t even. The staircase was shaped more like a cone, wide on the bottom for support and skinner up towards the top. Still, being able to look down the middle of it gave Chris a weird sense of vertigo, and he didn’t much like it. He clutched at Zach’s arm and Zach’s babbling stopped at once, as though Chris had thrown a switch.   

“Can we.. just get there?”  I’m really not feeling very well.” There was just enough light that Chris could see Zach’s frown of concern, before he jiggled the flashlight again so that his arm supported Chris’ waist.

“Yeah. Let’s get you into bed. You really do look like shit.” There was something in Zach’s voice that Chris couldn’t quite identify.  Things were starting to spin, and Chris began to concentrate on one foot in front of another, slowly approaching his goal. At this point he didn’t give two shits for how creepy the house was. He just wanted some quality time with a damn pillow.

“Thanks,” Chris yawned again, “man.”

“Yeah.” Zach pushed open the door. Chris almost expected it to swing open with a scream of rusty hinges, but no. It was just a door opening to a shadowy bedroom.

Chris must have lost time again, because the next thing he knew he was laying down on something soft and Zach was helping him take off his shoes.  Thunder crashed again and they both jumped, lighting flashing through the curtain to illuminate their somewhat sheepish grins.  Chris yawned again and he stretched out on the bed.

“Do you want me to leave the flashlight?”

“Nnn.” Chris blinked, fumbling with his phone.  It took him a lot longer than it should to unlock it, and he thumbed to the flashlight app with a sleepy grin, setting it on the table.  His eyes closed and they did not open again for some time. The last thing Chris remembered was the sound of his door closing with a sharp _click._


	3. Chapter 3

Chris awoke with a start, arms flailing in the pitch black. He could still feel something on his throat, the phantom touch crawling over his skin like spiders rushing from the touch of a predator. He sat up, scrabbling at his neck with his fingertips, as though he could brush the touch away. The bed springs squeaked as he moved, the bedspread falling away from his waist. In the blackness of the guest bedroom he heard his door make a tiny clicking sound as it shut and the sound caused Chris to freeze, utterly and completely stilling every muscle in his body as his heart pounded crazily in his chest.

_ Was someone here? _

“He-hello?”

No one answered.  Chris slid against the sheets, sliding his hand out for his phone. The adrenaline caused his brain to clear from its fuzziness, leaving a bitter headache in its wake. Chris touched the button on his phone again, confused when the screen didn’t blink on. He held it down, blinking stupidly at the device as though it had done something incredibly interesting, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

He must have imagined the feel of something on his neck. And sure, the sound of the door was likely just him remembering when Zach had left him to sleep off his stupor.

But that didn’t explain why the battery to his phone was missing, leaving it dead in his hands.

Chris bit his lip, staring down at his phone. Lightning sill flashed like a muted strobe, and Chris realized that his blinds had been pulled all the way shut. Goosebumps marched over his skin as stared stupidly in the direction of the window, listening for the thunder growling in the distance. He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but he felt draggy, as though he could just lie back and go back to sleep, ignoring the complete and utter feeling of  _ wrongness _ that seemed to utterly permeate the room.  

The scream that split the air startled Chris into jumping up before he could even think of what to do.  Ragged, senseless screaming, one after the other as though the person screaming couldn’t even stop to draw breath.

_ “Zoe!” _

Chris leaped out of the bed, stumbling against the table in the dark. He didn’t even notice the lamp that crashed to the ground, sounding like a gunshot. It took him three steps to yank open the door. It was still dark on the landing, but Chris could see Zoe clearly, standing in front of a bedroom, pointing with one shaking hand, mouth open as terror bled from her throat, the sound almost hurting his ears.

She was only about twenty feet away, and Chris ran to her, pulling her into his arms.  Zoe jerked when Chris touched her, the screams breaking off abruptly, bursting into tears and burying her face in Chris’ neck, so scared that her thin body was trembling, actually  _ vibrating _ as she tried to process whatever it was she had seen. Broken chuffs of sound against Chris’ neck; Zoe repeating something over and over. “Juh... Juh.” But she couldn’t seem to force the entire word out of her mouth.

Chris heard pounding steps behind him, and turned to see Zach struggling with a white t-shirt, hair messy and sticking up at all sorts of angles as though he’d been startled out of sleep.

“What the  _ fuck? _ Zoe! Chris? What...?”

A footstep from the room and Karl appeared in the doorway.  There were no drapes on two windows at either end of the landing. It was dark, the moon hidden by the cloudy night. Several of the windows Chris had noticed earlier now  provided a faint light from the flickering lightning outside. It was enough to see Karl’s face, pale and drawn.

Zach cursed and swung the flashlight so that the beam hit Karl in the neck, keeping it directly out of his eyes. There were faint spatters on Karl’s shirt, as though he’d been hit by a paint gun, black in the weird light of the landing. Zoe clutched at Chris more tightly, moaning, and Chris’ stomach rolled as he realized that the mess on Karl’s shirt... wasn’t paint.

“He’s... he’s...”  Karl’s voice broke off, strangled as he turned away from the door, pushing through and leaning against the doorway. He stumbled against the wall and Chris could dimly hear the sound of vomiting over the high-pitched whine that was in his ears.

Chris looked through the door, not even realizing that he had drawn away from  Zoe as though the sight in the bedroom was like some sort of magnet, pulling him inside.  

It was John.

Spread-eagled on the bed, ankles and wrists pinned to the head and foot boards with large knives that glinted in the light from the flashlight.  His throat looked like it had been cut, and Chris stared dumbly at the tendons and severed arteries, realizing with some small, screaming part of his mind, that that bit of white he could see at John’s throat should have been was  _ John’s fucking spine _ .

His brain processed what he was seeing slowly, as though it was afraid to really receive everything at once.  He saw John’s mouth, still open slightly, a tiny trickle of blood seeping out of the corner of his lips. The whole bed was covered in blood, and the sound of it dripping onto the wooden floor somehow made everything real.

Chris sucked in a breath and immediately wished that he hadn't, as the smell hit him, darkly rich; sickeningly sweet with the underlying stench of darker things. Chris took a step forward. He could see the expression on John’s face; eyes wide open and staring, slightly bulging with terror, mouth drawn back as though he had been in the middle of a scream.

“Wait...wait, Chris. Don’t go in. Dude, there’s no...”  Karl’s voice was strangled as his hand wrapped around Chris’ bicep. It took Chris a second to process what he was saying; that there was no chance that John was alive.

Zoe stopped crying in mid sob. When she spoke, the quiet, fragile sounding stutter caused the three men to stare at her, shocked.

“But- but-but...who...? Who killed him?”


	4. Chapter 4

Zach fumbled his phone, blindly bending down to reach for it. The flashlight rolled on the wooden floor, slowly spinning towards the landing. Chris watched dumbly as it rolled between the metal slats and off into space, banging once against the staircase before crashing against the floor below, breaking with a thump and a crash of glass It left them without a flashlight.Chris just stood there for a moment, feeling the way his hands trembled. He felt too cold, draggy, as though he had been on a three-day bender instead of a little jetlag.

_ Shock _ , his mind supplied helpfully.  _ Of course. You're going into shock. _

“My phone! What the fuck, why isn’t my phone working?" The bark of sound caused Chris to focus on Zach as he stood up onto his toes, twisting around as though trying to get a signal.  Karl sat slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. Zoe holding her phone in her hands, panicked now as she opened the back.

Chris knew what she would find. The significance of the phantom touch on his neck now took on a whole other meaning. Not a spider, or a cobweb as he had thought.

_ Sweet god.  Sweet  _ God _ , whoever had done this had been- _ -

“I. I don’t understand.”  Her whisper sounded pitiful. “Zach, what’s going on?”

Lightning flashed again, starkly highlighting all the angles of Zach’s face. Chris could see that he was chewing on his lip, trying very hard to seem more in control than he was.  Which was bullshit. If he felt even the slightest bit of what Chris was feeling right now then he was about three seconds from completely pissing himself.

“Mine too. In my bedroom.When I woke up...”

Zach’s head turned so quickly to look at him that Chris could hear one of the vertebrae in his neck pop. He stopped stretching and opened the back of his phone, sweaty fingers making it difficult to maneuver the small release of the battery cover. He flinched when he looked at it, then mutely turned the back of the phone so that they could all see the empty casing.

Karl’s voice still sounded broken, deep and gravely as he said the one thing that all four of them were thinking.  “How are we going to call for help if we don’t have any phones?”

“Wait.” Chris scrubbed his hands on his jeans, darting little glances towards the bedroom where John... lay. He could still hear the soft sounds of the blood as it rolled off his wrists and dripped onto the floor. The measured little plonk plonk plonk-s were going to drive him batshit insane if he had to listen to them any more. He reached out to shut the door to the bedroom.

Which, all things considered was a pretty shitty epitaph.  _ Sorry, John. I’d like to rend my hair and scream over your untimely demise, but really man, you’re bleeding too loudly and I’m afraid if I listen to it any longer I’ll start babbling and not be able to stop. _

“What about a regular phone? A landline? I mean, even with the storm...”

“No.” Zach’s voice was high-pitched with panic. “No, there’s no phones. We were just here for the weekend. I never thought that we’d need them.” His voice cracked, and Chris watched as he slumped, running his hand through his hair.

“Oh. Great job there, mate.”  

“Hey! Don’t bitch at him. How the hell could he have known?” Chris was glad to be focusing on something besides the gruesome sight in the bedroom.

“Guys! This really isn’t the time to start arguing.” Zoe’s whisper caused the three men to shut up, Karl shutting his mouth in mid-retort.  “We need to think of what to do next. How close are we to another house or something? We need to go find help.” She seemed to take strength from her own words, squaring her shoulders.

Chris always wanted to assign adjectives to her; words like ‘fragile’ or ‘ethereal’.  Which was stupid. He’d been clubbing with the woman and had seen what she could do with a stiletto. Chris watched her reform herself; becoming less of a victim with each second that ticked by. He  found himself pathetically grateful to follow her lead and forced his fuzzy brain to think. “Okay. No phones. First thing... I don’t think any of us should be alone. For any reason. The person who kuh-” his voice wavered. “Killed John could. Oh Jesus. What if they're still be in the house?” Somehow speaking his thoughts out loud made everything a lot more... clear. Sweat broke out on his body.

“Then maybe we should go back downstairs.” Zoe reached out, stroking her hand up Zach’s arm. He jumped, staring at her with wide eyes, dark in the whiteness of his face.

“There’s really nowhere to go here, unless you want to go into the creepy bedrooms of death to hide from the crazy fucking psycho.” Karl thudded his head against the wall, and Chris frowned at him, feeling as though there was something he was missing.  

Something important.

“Downstairs would be easier. There are lights downstairs.”

Lights sounded like one hell of a good idea. The best of ideas. Chris wasn’t normally afraid of the dark, but this half-light that the lightning would occasionally give off was not exactly doing anything for his blood pressure.“I vote yes for downstairs. Let’s go.”

Zoe turned again, lightly stroking her fingers against the closed door, her face working as she struggled not to cry. Chris hugged her from behind with one arm, turning to help Karl up from his sprawl against the wall with the other.  

They stood lined next to each other at the landing, the four of them staring silently down at the spiral of the staircase, fingers curling over the railing. No one spoke, but he saw Karl butt Zach’s shoulder with his own in a silent apology for earlier.

“Well, let’s go on then. And hurry, yeah? I hate this fucking thing.” Karl gave the staircase a dirty look, as though it had offended him personally.

Chris could relate.

They made it downstairs without incident, all four of them huddled together.  Karl led, with Zoe, Zach and Chris following single file. Chris felt like he was in a Scooby-Doo cartoon; eerily certain that something big and growly and armed would be swooping down on them from the landing at any moment. Chris blinked, then bit his lip as he thought.  _ He would have to be Fred as clearly he was much too sexy to die. Well, then that would make Zoe Daphne. And Karl?  Well. Wait. Maybe Karl would be Fred, and that would make him Shaggy. But then again what about Zach?  _ Chris stared at the back of his head as their footsteps echoed down the metallic staircase. Zach’s head turned a little as Chris coughed, his glasses glinting in the faint light. Chris smirked.

_ Zach was  _ totally  _ Velma. Wait. Thelma? Helma? What the fuck was her- _

Zach stopped walking, and Chris jumped a little trying to pull his crazy thoughts back into some sort of order.  Only his mind would wander when there was a murder in the house.

“Okay, so Chris, you come with me. I’m going to get lights.  Maybe you two can...”  Zach broke off, as though he were unsure about exactly what it was that Karl and Zoe should be doing.

“We’ll figure out something, Zach. Please go and get the lights. I think we’d all feel better with them.” Thunder boomed again like an exclamation point, causing all of them to jump.

“Right.”

Chris didn’t even mock him for the way he squeaked the syllable. He also didn’t think Zach would call him on the way they walked closely together, shoulders and elbows brushing each other. Chris kept turning his head, trying to catch something out of the corner of his eye. It was like his brain knew there was a problem, that there was something horrible going on, but he couldn’t quite get catch it in the act.

Zach grabbed Chris’ forearm, pulling him towards a dark shape on the other side of the room.  “I’m glad that I found these earlier. It would really suck if we didn’t have any light at--”

“Dude. Please don’t finish that sentence. Seriously.”

“Ah, right.”  Zach coughed a little, obviously embarrassed. He opened the drawer and

Chris could tell by the way his body froze that something unexpected had happened. With a sinking feeling, Chris looked down into the drawer, hope draining away from him as he saw the one lamp sitting at the bottom. They were both quiet for a moment.

“Please don’t say ‘I told you so.’” Zach sounded wary. That was to be expected, but underneath it Chris heard the first few stirrings of anger.

Chris just shook his head. He sucked in a sharp breath and he felt Zach flinch away from him, starting to open the other few drawers randomly, silverware and china rattling as his movements became more abrupt, more panicked.  “No, oh nonono there is no way. No fucking _ way _ that .. It was just here! Three lamps and flashlights and everything! Seriously what the fucking  _ fuck _ !”

Chris opened the drawer, lifting out the small hurricane lamp, half expecting it to explode in his hand. He could smell the pungent scent of the oil, and frowned, shutting off the valve.

“It looks like someone left it open on purp-”

There was a crash as something slammed, a gasping sort of scream echoing through the dark house. Chris gripped the top of the lamp, holding it towards his chest as he began to run towards the sound. He could hear snarling, growling and curses, all coming from the front door, and he pushed himself to run faster, bouncing off of shadowy furniture in his haste to get to the sound. Lightning flashed again and all at once Chris could see, the suddenness of it almost painful as his eyes adjusted to the surprising strobe of light.

As with John’s room, what he saw didn’t make any sense. Karl had thrown his whole weight against the front door and was struggling to keep it closed. Zoe had her whole back against it, and was scrambling to find purchase against the slick floor, her feet catching on a rug, causing it to crinkle up as she pushed back against the door. Two of the biggest dogs that Chris had ever seen were attempting to get inside, foam dripping off their snouts as they snapped at the air, snarling to show off the sharp teeth. Chris felt Zach slam into him and he lost his grip on the lamp, hardly noticing it as it spun out, crashing against the floor.  

Chris threw himself between Karl and Zoe, helping to help push the door shut. He could hear Karl cursing nonstop under his breath, heard Zoe’s high-pitched breaths as she sucked air into her lungs. Chris put his shoulder into it and could feel the dogs begin to weaken, their claws squealing against the wooden floor. The door shut another inch. The dog closest to him rolled its eyes, snaps and snarls falling from its muzzle.

Out of nowhere was a **_THWAP_** of sound and the dog nearest to Chris jerked back with a startled yelp. The loss of one dog was enough; the three of them were able to slam the door shut, Chris reaching up to lock the thing before anything else crazy could happen.  

For a moment all he could hear was panting breaths as the three of them stared at Zach, still clutching the rubber spatula over his head. He looked almost as though he had been posed, his chest heaving with his breath as he remained in position for a moment, before sheepishly lowering his arm with a small grin. Then Zoe started to giggle. Chris’ lips twitched. Karl let out a sound that was something between a guffaw and a moan as he slid down the door.

“Is. Is that.. er...loaded?” Chris’ question sent Zoe into a flurry of slightly hysterical giggles.  Zach blinked  a few times, and even in the faint light from the lightning, Chris could see his cheeks stained with color. Chris noticed with one, slightly hysterical part of his mind that it was the same little red rubber one that his mom used to make him eggs and had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing outright.

Zach threw the spatula, falling to his knees in front of Karl. Chris looked and saw that Karl had both hands clutched over his thigh, curled in on himself as though he was hurt.

He stopped laughing as though a switch had been thrown.

“What  _ hap _ pened?!” Zach’s reedy voice sounded as though it were being forced from the back of his throat. His breaths sounded heavy. Chris reached out to touch his shoulder, shivering a little at the sensation that hit him. He pulled Zach into a one-armed  hug, understanding how close Zach was to losing it.

“I... we...”  Karl trailed off, hissing as Zach carefully moved the denim from his legs. Chris could see a gash in the muscle of his thigh, jagged and torn open. “Ouch, fucking hell that hurts. Dogs. There had to be at least twenty out there. Fucking mad bastards. One jumped at Zoe and I pushed it off, then the fucker took a chunk out of my leg.”

Zoe continued to giggle behind her hands. The high-pitched, sounds becoming less and less sane as she continued. Chris crouched down beside her, wiping the tears off her face with his thumbs. “Come on, Zoe. It’s okay. Shhhh, honey.”

A sharp bark of laughter, harsh in the room. Chris wasn’t the only one in the foyer to flinch.

“How is it okay? How?  John is dead!  _ Dead!  _ And we can’t call for help or even leave the goddamn house ‘cuz eighty fucking Cujos are out there ready to eat us if we try to leave!” She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. Chris, feeling idiotic, tried to hold her. She was stiff, unmoving and seemingly too traumatized to relax into his arms. He patted her hair, feeling completely ineffectual.

“Look, I don’t know how you want to do this, but he needs something on that bite. I know there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom here on this floor. We can’t all go, and I’m sure as shit not going by myself.”  

Chris sighed. “I can stay here with Karl.”

“No, I’ll stay with him. He fought off a rabid dog for me for Christ’s sake. I think this is the least that I can do.”

“Karl?”

“Whatever. Bring back some of the alcohol when you come back. Medicinal, you understand.”

Chris understood. He wouldn’t be drinking, but then again he hadn’t been mauled by a dog the size of a small pony, either. “Okay.” He rocked back onto his feet and stood up, his knees popping, echoing strangely in the eerily quiet hall. Zach jumped, flinching away from Chris.

“Let’s go. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we can get back and try to figure out some sort of plan.” They stood, and started to walk towards the bathroom. Chris didn’t say anything when Zach tightened his grip on the spatula, looking alertly around. Hell, it had worked once. Who was he to say that it wouldn’t work again?

Chris looked back once, saw Zoe rummaging in what looked like a giant purse. Karl was still against the door, his head thudding every once in awhile as his lips twisted in a grimace, hands clutching his thigh. Blood trickled slowly over his fingertips onto the floor.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”  Zach began a steady stream of chatter as he walked.

Chris couldn’t help the incredulous look. “Did you really just ask me that? I’m feeling swell. Been a really boring night.  Was looking forward to our shuffleboard and navel lint collection tourney, but yeah. This is a close second for kicks.”

“Shuffleboard?”

There was a sound off to the left. Both Chris and Zach froze in midstep, their movements almost perfectly coordinated. It sounded like something had been dropped onto the floor, the clatter echoing through the hallway.

“Oh shit.” Chris breathed. “Tell me you heard that.”

Zach nodded, his fingers gripping Chris’ forearm. He tugged, and Chris followed him as Zach ran towards the guest bathroom.

For the first time all night, Chris realized that they both were barefoot. He felt his feet skidded a little on the floor as they ran, desperately trying to put distance between them and the sound he’d heard.

They fell into the bathroom, the door slamming behind them with a crash.  Chris’ hand snaked out to find the light switch, flipping it a few times out of habit before he remembered that there was no power.

“Fuck! _ Fuck _ , what the hell was that?”  Zach’s hiss caused Chris to jump. The bathroom was fairly small. There was a sink and a toilet, but no shower or bathtub. There was a fairly large vanity, and Chris frantically began searching through it for something that he could use as a weapon. The first aid kit was there, and Chris snatched it up, holding it out for Zach to grab. Other than that, nothing. Not a goddamn thing that could be used as a weapon unless he wanted to throw some gauze at their adversary, something that he particularly did not want to do.

“Look, maybe we can break the window or something and get out that way.” Zach looked doubtfully at the window.

“Funny how even in such a huge house, the damn bathroom window is so small. Not even your skinny ass will fit through there, Zach.”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure.”

“Spent a lot of time checking out my ass?”  Zach leered.

Chris rolled his eyes. “Look, just because...” He cut off abruptly when without warning the lights came back up. They both winced away from each other, blinking rapidly in the sudden brightness.  

There was a knock on the door.

Chris could hear his heart thundering in his ears The knock came again, polite, three sharp raps against the wooden surface. He saw a reflection of himself in the mirror, and thought for a second that he looked as though he was about to pass out.  His face was extremely pale, his eyes too wide in his shocked, still face.

“Hello?” Even muffled through the door there was no questioning whose voice it was.

“ _ Karl _ ?”

Zach snatched open the door. Karl stood there, his eyebrow raised. “I’m not asking what the three of you are doing in here. How’d you lot manage the lights?”

“They just came up.” Zach stood back, gesturing for Karl to take a seat on the toilet.  Karl looked around, obviously confused, but as his leg gave out on him, he sat heavily, banging his elbow on the counter. Zach bent down, wrapping his leg with very little fuss. Chris felt a little sick at the blood that soaked through the gauze, and turned away, expecting to see Zoe standing outside of the bathroom. He poked his head out of the doorway, looking left and right before turning back to look at his friends, Karl grimacing with pain, Zach frowning a little in concentration as he wrapped the dog’s bite.

“Hey. Where’s Zoe?”

“How would I know?” Karl’s voice was tight with pain as he sat there, eyes shut. “Isn’t she with--”

“What do you mean,  _ how would you know. _ We left the two of  _ you  _ together.” Chris couldn’t help the way his voice rose, the pitch higher and higher with each word.

Karl’s eyes snapped open. Zach must have done something unpleasant, because Karl sucked in a sharp breath as Zach straightened, almost falling forward on his knees as he turned, losing his balance.

“I .. I thought that she...”

“ _ You left her alone? _ !”


	5. Chapter 5

Chris was already running back towards the hallway, screaming for Zoe as he ran. He heard Zach behind him, and Karl cursing, limping after them. It helped that the lights were up, but there wasn’t much actual light visible.

There was a large chandelier hanging over the spiral staircase, but it was off, unlit.  It looked as though the hallway had smaller spacer lights, none of them putting out much of a glow, but after spending the last twenty minutes in complete darkness it was a nice change. Well, relatively. Chris only caught  bits of light as he ran as fast as he could.

“Zoe?” “Zoe!”  He could hear the other two behind him, checking other rooms as he ran back to the dining room. Chris skidded to a halt, looking around wildly. No luck. No Zoe.

Chris bit his lips to still their trembling. A horrible feeling was beginning to pool in the bottom of his stomach, one that made his chest tighten, his throat beginning to close with petrified worry. It couldn’t be. Not Zoe.

Not.

Zoe...

Chris walked to the front door. He forced himself to walk slowly, taking a deep breath after every step. _Please god. Make her be okay. Please, let her be okay. Please. I’ll do anything. Please not Zoe._

He could see her purse, near his backpack on the floor. It looked as though there had been a struggle, and as he knelt to put her mascara back in her purse with shaking fingers, Chris heard the other two behind him. He could smell her lotion, the scent of rosemary and lavender suddenly cloying in his throat. He reached out and continued to pick up the things that had spilled from her purse, slowly, as though he could delay the inevitable just by his meticulous actions.

“How the fuck could you leave her alone, Karl?” Chris heard the fury in his voice, and couldn’t bring himself to care how much his words obviously absolutely gutted the other man.

“I... I...”

Chris finally turned to face the both of them, holding her purse to his chest. His mind was whirling with thoughts, impossible and improbable thoughts that made him want to vomit.

Thoughts that made him want to kill someone.

“I dozed off. My leg, I...” Karl trailed off, his whole face blank with shock. “I woke up when I heard you guys slam that door. I was alone, and freaked. She wasn’t anywhere near me, I swear to you. I thought she had gone with you guys, and spent the few minutes it took me to get down that  goddamn hallway in terror that someone was going to...”

“Look. Let’s go back to the dining room. Chris, just try to calm down. We’re all worried here.”

Chris glared, standing up, still clutching the purse.

“Right. ah, yeah. Okay.” Karl sounded tortured.

 _Maybe_ too _tortured? Was he... was this some sort of act on Karl’s part?_

Chris wasn’t particularly interested in discussing anything. His throat hurt; the force of holding in the emotion threatening to spill out of him was taking its toll on his body. His brain, ever the hopeful one, kept a constant mantra of _notZoenotZoenotZoe_ in his head that was distracting as all hell.

“I’ll follow you two, then.” His voice, when he spoke was short.

Zach reached out, placating and grasped Chris’ shoulder. “Chris. Come on. Let’s just... look. This part of the room is too open. I’d feel better with doors around me.”  Zach blew out a breath, removing the hand from Chris’ shoulder and running his fingers through his hair causing it to stand up crazily. Chris had to force himself to nod. Zach turned, and after a moment Karl followed.

Chris didn’t trust Karl any further than he could throw him. He followed last, still clutching Zoe’s purse, eyes on the older man.

“I think we should split up and go look for Zoe.” Chris’ voice cracked on Zoe’s name. His stomach felt like he’d swallowed snakes, twisting and curling inside of him.

“Are you fucking crazy?  Every time someone is by themselves, there’s a complete and utter raging clusterfuck. No. No more splitting up.”  Karl’s voice was still rough. He crossed to the table and pulled out a chair, roughly sitting down into it. With his elbows on his knees and his hands fisted in his hair, Karl was the perfect picture of abject dejection as he sat slumped in his seat. In that moment Chris hated him, hated the way that Karl was such a consummate actor. He sounded absolutely wrecked.

Chris sighed, leaning against the window seat. It wasn’t high enough to be a proper seat; and served as an old fashioned sideboard instead of an actual seat. The curtains against his back felt warm, although they smelled as though mothballs had died and been reborn in the time that they had been cleaned. He shifted, setting Zoe’s purse besides him on the small bench.

“Hey, Chris?”

Chris looked up at Zach’s question. Zach stood slightly in front of Chris, a look on his face that Chris couldn’t quite identify. Sort of a mix of questioning paranoia, or terrified query.

“Yeah?”

“Were those drapes closed before?”

Chris’s skin crawled and he straightened, coming to his feet. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, indecisive. Karl tilted his head up, face blanking as he attempted to stifle a small sound of surprise, deep in his throat. Zach looked grey in the light, like all of the blood had left his face.

_Do not open those curtains._

The voice of his subconscious was strong enough that for a moment, Chris thought that either Karl or Zach had spoken. His gaze darted between Zach and Karl. Zach nodded. Karl shook his head. Chris, his heart thumping in his chest , took a deep breath and slowly pulled the curtain open.

He wished he had listened to his own subconscious.

Chris’ own voice left his throat on a choking scream of pure, horrified terror.

The copse of trees that Chris had noticed earlier was still there, branches waving in the wind from the storm. The reflection from the light was such that, with the light shining out onto the night, at first Chris could see his own face as his lips pulled back into a scream, Zach and Karl slightly less discernible figures behind him.

Then his eyes adjusted. Chris whimpered, a small, broken sound at the sight in front of him.

It was Zoe, of course. The white shirt she had been wearing was stained with red, from the neck down, looking like a paintbrush casually dipped in vermilion. Like John, her throat had been cut. She had also been impaled through the chest, the tree branches seeming to Chris’ terrified mind to reach out to him like arms, clutching and begging for attention. All at once, he had the absolute certainty, that if he could touch the branches, they would close around him and strangle him with their embrace. Zoe’s forehead slid against the glass as the wind blew, the sound of her wet skin making an _errrrrrrt_ sound as it did so. Her body was slight enough that every time the wind blew, her head lolled a little further, face obscured by the long, wet tangle of her hair.

Chris heard screaming, dimly realizing that his own throat was hurting from the force of the sound as he recoiled, tripping over his feet in the process. He fell down hard, landing on his ass in a twist of limbs. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off Zoe, off the way the branch through her torso left such a smear of blood against the windowpane that the rain couldn't wash it away fast enough. His scream turned into a sob as Chris turned, flipped so that he could get to his feet and was running, bare feet pounding as he ran towards the door. Towards escape. Towards his friend.

Zoe!

Chris’ hands jerked the door open, just in time for one of the dogs to leap at him, biting and snarling. He would have been mauled if Zach hadn’t pulled the back of his shirt, pulling Chris off balance enough. As it was, the teeth came so close to him, that he could feel the dog’s hot, stagnant breath as it snapped at him, blood and saliva flying onto his face from the force of the dog’s jaws. Chris felt the seams of his t-shirt tear as Zach pulled, using the momentum of pulling Chris off-balance to force Chris to the side of the door and onto the floor.

Chris finally stopped screaming when his chin hit the wooden surface, Zach’s weight heavy against his back. A small part of him could still hear the growling, snarling dog, hear the yelp of pain and the sound of the door as Karl slammed it shut, but the rest of his brain went comfortably offline, white noise making him numb for awhile, unconsciousness finally taking the image of Zoe’s ghastly death out of his head.

When Chris floated back to consciousness, it was with the sound of arguing. Chris moaned a little when he realized that the crazy events of this night weren’t a dream.

“I just think it’s pretty goddamn fucking convenient!”  Zach’s voice was almost unrecognizable as it rose in a scream, his usually cultured, even tones completely obliterated at his fury.

Normally Chris thought it was funny as hell. Zach in a rage sounded a lot like a Chipmunk, with the way his voice would crack and squeak. Now though, he was too numb, too heartbroken. He didn’t really care. Chris forced himself to sit up, bleary eyes taking in the scene in front of him: Karl and Zach almost nose to nose, both furious and looking like they were seconds away from actual violence.

“You’re cracked! I’m not fucking responsible for any of this!”

“Oh? Chris was right. If you’re not responsible for anything, then how did you end up with John’s blood all over your body? Your room was three doors down from mine. How did you get there first then? I was right next door?”

Chris watched, feeling strangely dispassionate as he saw Karl flounder, running his hands through his hair in his irritation. When he spoke, each word was tight with fury, as though he was forcing the words out through his teeth. “I arrived there with Zoe. I was trying to see if he could be helped.”

“Right.” Zach scoffed, crossing his long arms over his chest.  “Then maybe you can explain how you alone managed to wander the halls of this fucked up funhouse when Zoe went missing. Or the reason she just “happened” to disappear while with you. Or the way with all the crazy dogs outside you managed to get only one superficial bite-”

“Super _fic_ ial? Are you mad? Fucking mutt took a chunk out of my thigh!” He saw Chris sitting up and looked at him, pleadingly. “Chris? Come on, mate, you know I wouldn’t.... that I would _never_...”

It was like Zach was saying every single thing that Chris had thought at one point. Chris stood up, standing shoulder to shoulder with Zach. It was impossible of course. Why would Karl want to hurt John? Or... his brain shuddered a little.... Or... Zoe? Chris remembered the phantom stroke of fingers around his neck. Or _him_? It didn’t make any sense. “No, actually Karl. I don’t know anything of the sort.”

If Chris had not have been watching the two fight, he never would have believed it. Karl, who was now so enraged that a fine tremor had taken over his body, clenched his fists at his side, before turning around to limp off. Chris heard a sound from Zach. Zach’s voice was twisted when he spoke. “You cowardly son of a bitch!”

Karl turned, and Zach’s fist was moving before Chris could blink. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked, Karl for being hit or Zach for actually connecting with Karl’s jaw.

“Fuck!” Zach spun away, shaking his hand star-fishing his fingers. Karl blinked up at him from where he’d stumbled, knees hitting the floor with a solid sounding _thwack_ of sound.The fact that he looked so utterly _confused_ set Chris off.

It occurred to Chris, as the skin on his knuckle split from the force of his punch, that the last fight he’d been in that hadn’t been rehearsed and choreographed beforehand was when Tommy Heinz stole his nutter butters and ate them in front of him. That fight had ended up with a bruised but unrepentant Chris pouting in the Principal's office, wincing when he heard his mother’s outraged voice.

This fight ended up somewhat more differently, with Karl refusing to defend himself, almost curled in on himself as Chris pounded out his anger and fear and desperation into his jaw. It took Zach a few minutes to pull him off- when had he straddled Karl’s legs like that?- and Chris went willingly enough, stomach still churning with shock and grief. The knuckles on his right hand were bloody, already swelling, causing the already-split skin to sting even more.

Chris heard the squeaking sound again and couldn’t help his automatic gaze, looking up into Zoe’s face as her head lulled unnaturally on her neck. Chris felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and just knelt there, fist curled into his chest as he watched Zach run out of the room, returning in just a few minutes with something that glinted in the faint light of the light fixtures on the wall.

Zach produced a pair of handcuffs from somewhere (Chris had learned long ago never to ask and just roll with it.) and before Chris could quite process what was happening, Karl was handcuffed and pulled to his feet.

“I want to cut her down.”

“No, Chris. I... I understand, but no. We can’t go outside until it’s daylight. I think Simon will be arriving then.” Zach crouched in front of him, swimming suddenly in his field of vision, blocking him from Zoe’s body. “Come on, we can lock Karl in the closet. We just need to wait a few hours. Simon’ll have a phone.”  

Karl laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. “You two are fucking mental. Mental!” But his gaze couldn’t look away from Zoe either. Chris knew guilt when he saw it.

Chris looked at Zach’s hand dully, noting the single trail of blood sliding between his knuckles and down his palm, pooling on his wrist and falling with a soft plop onto the wooden floor.

“Okay.”

He followed slowly as Zach pushed and prodded Karl into the closet nearest to the bathroom. Karl tripped at the rough treatment, falling down with a grunt.

“Chris, man. Come on. You know me. You know this is a mistake. You have to understand that--” Karl threw his body back, his heavier weight almost causing both Chris and Zach to lose their grip on the larger man.

Chris cursed under his breath, and he and Zach each took a shoulder, pushing Karl with all their strength. Zach slammed the door and locked it, his face twisted.

“Zach. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would Karl kill them? I just don’t...” Chris knew he sounded pitiful. He _felt_ pitiful, following around, just reacting to everything instead of actually coming up with any sort of plan. He was unresisting when Zach swung him around so that they could look at each other fully. Zach pulled him into a hug, but Chris winced away from him, flinching when his hand came into contact with Zach’s bony chest.

“Here. You go on to the living room, and I’ll grab the first aid kit for your hand, okay?”

Chris was so tired. The dizziness from earlier came back with a vengeance and Chris found himself nodding, turning and just walking back to the living room. He thought it kind of funny that he hadn’t even seen the room yet; what with one thing or another.

One thing or another. _That was just fucking funny._  Only it wasn’t. Not really. Chris made a point of closing the blinds on Zoe before he opened the door off of the dining room, throwing both doors open with a loud crash. This room room was covered in dusty sheets.

Only one couch and a chair had been uncovered, and Chris saw Zach’s bag sitting on one of the horribly flowered couch covers.

He moved Zach’s messenger bag to the side of the couch, stretching out and closing his eyes, allowing his head to thud back against the wall.

Thunder growled again, and Chris sighed, exhausted at the whole thing. He needed to work on some sort of plan to get out of the house. Zach seemed to think that Simon would be there later. In a few hours. Whatever. But what would keep the dogs from just snacking on him as he strolled up to the door?

And really, that was one of the things that was bugging him. Zoe hadn’t been bitten. Chris could see her slight body every time he closed his eyes. Other than the... obvious wounds, nothing else had hurt her.  

Chris heard a sound, a shriek of fear and his eyes popped open.

“Zach! Oh fuck, can’t this night ever just fucking _end_ ?” Chris scrambled to his feet and tried to commend his exhausted body to hurry, managing a loping sort of run. He stumbled, cursed and tripped over his own two feet when without warning the lights flickered and died again.  “Zach?! _Zach?_ are you...”

Something brushed his face in the darkness and Chris stumbled back with a shout. It had been a wet sort of flutter, almost clammy. He cautiously reached out with nervous fingers batting at the whatever it was, expecting a moth or some other sort of insect. He could hear an creaking sound over the sound of his harsh breaths, and found himself wishing for one of the flashli--

It was a shoelace. Attached to a shoe. Chris heard a groaning sort of moan and reached up, not understanding what his touch was telling him that there was a body hanging here, swinging.  Chris screamed, lightning flashing simultaneously illuminating everything with too much detail.

Karl hung there, hands still handcuffed in front of him, face still puffy from Chris’ fists. The rope had been looped from the top landing of the banister, allowing him to hang down almost perpendicular to the floor. Chris was completely silent, cutting off his scream by the simple act of biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Karl’s eyes were open. Chris couldn’t help but think that Karl looked faintly accusing as he swung there, rope wrapped securely enough around his neck that it hid the way that it must have broken when Karl was thrown off the balcony.

The first step was slow, shaky. The second was much more solid, until Chris was running towards the bottom of the spiral staircase, unable to stop staring at Karl’s body, still swinging slightly in reaction to Chris’ movement from earlier.

“Chris! No!” Zach slammed into him again, yanking hard on his bicep so that Chris pulled up short on the third step. “No, we have to get back to the living room. It’s safe there. Come on, whoever did this has to still be here!”  

“I don’t care!” Chris yanked out of Zach’s grip and started back up the stairs.

“Chris,” Zach moaned, reaching out for him again. “Come on. Please, man I can’t... I .. I can’t lose you too.”  

Zach’s words, once they sunk in, caused him to stop fully.  Zach was right. Whoever had done this must still be in the house.

_Someone else was still in the house._

 

 

 

 

 

**_Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion, posted on *Vincent Price Voice* Halloweeeeeeeennnnnn...._ **


	6. Chapter 6

They both whirled and ran back to the living room in the darkness, Chris tripping over something in the dark that made him stumble once again. One startled glance down and Chris realized it was the spatula that Zach had had from earlier. The lightning seemed to strobe again, flashing in accompaniment to the crash of thunder and spatter of rain. Zach slammed the door shut, and Chris thought that he heard a faint click as he skidded to a halt, his bare feet slipping on the hardwood floor. Chris tripped again and fell onto his hands and knees, causing Zach’s bag to spill out against the floor.

Chris saw the glint of metal and froze, shutting his eyes.

 No. It couldn’t be.

“Hey, do you have that first-aid kit?” Chris made his way to his feet, perching on one of the small chairs instead of the couch as he’d done before. Zach walked briskly by him and--

Chris saw out of the corner of his eye that Zach casually used his foot to block the bit of metal.

“Ah, I guess I dropped it when I saw Karl.”

Chris wanted to believe that with everything in his soul. He forced a smile. He couldn’t afford to be wrong about this. He’d... he’d been wrong about Karl and now Karl was _dead._

“How long do you think it will be before dawn? And what time did you say Simon and Anton would be here?”

Chris listened to Zach talk, the sound of his voice rising and falling as Zach continued with his story. He couldn't look Zach in the eyes; his gaze dropping to the floor, gaze catching on something else that caused his heart to speed up in his chest.

“Zach. What if... what if Simon was the one who... who killed everyone?” The words slipped out of his mouth without Chris fully thinking of their impact. Zach stopped in mid-conversation, a strange look in his eyes as he seized on the small statement with something very much like glee on his face. “Yes! Of course! He knew where we’d be staying! And look at the order that he struck; John, then poor Zoe, then Karl!”

_Bullshit._

Chris knew full well that Simon was in London for his wife’s birthday. Hell, they’d been invited for Christ’s sake. Anton was off with friends in Morocco... Mozambique... some M country. Chris knew that he wouldn’t be showing up either. Even worse, Chris knew that Zach knew neither of them would be popping in for this house party from hell. Chris knew he was going to regret asking this, but he couldn’t help it. The words spilled from his lips without his brain able to provide a disconnect.

“Hey, Zach? How come I didn’t hear your taxi pull up?”

“What?” Zach stilled, his head tilting slightly to the side.

Chris felt a slight sweat start to break out on his body. His knuckles throbbed when he flexed his hands, nervously trying to contain his energy. He cut his gaze to the door, trying to figure out how quickly he could make it there, open it, and leave.

He’d take his damn chances with the dogs.

“Before dinner. You came up behind me. But, there was no car. Why didn’t you just tell me that you were already here?”

Zach was silent.

Chris watched as his friend’s eyebrows narrowed, and the sight caused goosebumps to break out all over his body. “Why did you have to come up behind me like that and scare me? Pretty funny joke, man.”

He and Zach shared a laugh, neither one of them meaning it for an instant. Chris tensed, ready to bolt at any moment.

“I was confused, you know? Draggy? Like, I couldn’t focus on anything after those drinks that you got me. I thought it was just jet lag, or that I was just supremely tired or something, but... But you drugged me, didn’t you?”

Chris heard his heartbeat. Lightning flashed again in the room, but Chris’ gaze had adjusted again to the weird half-light.

“Yes.”

The simple syllable caused Chris’ own eyes to drift shut for a moment. His heart actually _ached._ He did it on a reflex; tossed his useless phone at Zach’s head, running for the door almost as soon as the phone left his hand. He heard Zach’s curse as he hit the door, scrambling for the old-fashioned doorknob. Zach was fast, was behind him in an instant, his body slamming into Chris’ with enough force that Chris felt the pain as his head knock against the wooden door.

Chris felt something against his neck and froze, his mind babbling at him in terror.

The knife that he’d seen when Zach’s bag had spilled was ice cold against his neck.

Chris just reacted, sending his elbow back with enough force to cause Zach to grunt as his breath left his body on a _whoosh_ of sound. Chris threw his head back, seeing stars as the back of his skull crashed into Zach’s forehead. Zach fell away from him and Chris could move, ripping his fingernails down to the quick as he scrambled for the lock, pulling the door open and sprinting out into the hallway. He could hear Zach running behind him, and in his fear and terror could only think of distance.

Distance meant the staircase.

Chris heard the little slapping sounds his feet made as he ran up the stairs, running as fast as he could. Zach’s laughter, high-pitched and clearly insane seemed to bounce off the walls, causing it to echo through the cavernous front area that held the staircase.

“Where ya gonna go, Chris?” Zach’s mocking shout caused Chris to let out a little yip of a scream. Chris’ sweaty grip caused him to slip, and he tripped up the stairs, head hanging crazily off the side for a moment.

He moaned when he felt Zach’s grip on his ankle, and tried to kick back, looking over his shoulder. He didn’t connect, but was able to get a precious few inches further away. Chris didn’t recognize his friend at all; face covered in blood from his broken nose, normally warm, brown eyes cold and glinting in the faint light of the hallway. Chris could see the shadow that Karl cast against the part of the stairs that he was sprawled against,and kicked out again, trying to haul himself to his feet. The palms of his hands stung as they scraped against the metal stairs.

“Chrisss-tooo-pherrrr... you’re not going to get away from me. I’ve been saving yours til last you know. The very best for the very last.” Zach pulled himself up one of the stairs, slowly, grinning ferally like a cat playing with a mouse.

Chris scrambled up another two, sliding as his terror kept his limbs completely uncoordinated. Zach’s long fingers were almost lover-like on his ankle and Chris flipped over, pushing himself up the last few steps, jerking his foot out of Zach’s grasp. He could feel the rug against his shoulders and what seemed like a yard of skin as it scraped off his lower back in his desperation to get away from Zach.

He heard a whistle of air and saw the knife come plunging down towards him. Chris just barely got his hands up in time, clutching Zach’s wrist with all his strength. Zach fell, straightening up against him, trying for leverage to get his arm up to be able to swing the knife again. Chris cried out, felt his lip split as he grimaced, flinging his head to the left as the knife scraped against the floor. He arched, bucking his body up and by some miracle Zach slid down a stair, his face ending up in Chris’s stomach as Chris pulled himself away, twisting and kicking out with his feet.

When it happened, it happened quickly.

Chris managed to kick at Zach hard enough, his feet on Zach’s shoulders knocking the other man off balance. Chris jackknifed up, pushing Zach with all his strength, his breath a panting sob when he saw the almost comical surprise on Zach’s face as he lost his balance, rolling off the staircase his long, thin body falling through the spiral slats of the staircase almost in slow motion.

Chris watched, eyes wide as Zach fell, bouncing once off one of the spirals and landing onto the floor with a sickening crack of sound.

For several moments, all Chris could hear was his own whistling, panting breaths.

He knew it was a bad idea when the thought struck him; but was like the compulsion wouldn’t leave him alone. It took him a minute to manage to stop shaking, and two tries to actually stand. Chris crept down the stairs, his heart in his throat.

Zach was sprawled on the floor, his limbs twisted horribly. Chris looked at him, listened to the silence of the house. He took the final two steps down and stood, looking down at Zach.

The silence was so immense that it pressed around him. The thunder was silent. It was so quiet in the house that Chris could hear his heart beating in his chest, hear the little clicking sound his throat made as he swallowed consecutively. It was unbelievable. How had this even happened? Why would Zach want to kill them? What would make him snap like that.. or had he always been crazy? Had the fughats always been a sign?

With a strength that seemed almost inhuman, Zach’s hand closed tightly around Chris’ ankle.

Chris’ scream echoed throughout the house, and as Zach used his ankle to hoist himself up. He lost his balance and fell, Zach twisting so that he was over Chris again, looking down into his petrified face.

Chris couldn’t make himself move. His legs were jelly; his eyes so wide they hurt as Zach grinned up at him, his mouth a bloody smear. The knife seemed huge as Zach raised it, and Chris couldn’t look away... could only watch as it slowly came down, the point digging into his Adam’s apple and---

“ **AND** **_CUUUT!_ ** **!!** ”

There was such a release of tension that the entire room felt like a different place.

What?

Zach rolled off of him as the lights came up, popping his neck with a sharp jerk. “Fucking hell, that hurt. Why do you guys do all your stunts all the time without spending all the time in the hospital?” He brushed his hand across his nose, wincing at the blood he found there.

_What??_

Chris heard a bell ring, and at the signal, people seemed to appear out of nowhere. A woman whose face he vaguely recognized offered Zach a towel and a bottled water.

Chris blinked stupidly as John walked by, munching on a chicken leg, still covered in his blood and gore...makeup?

“Dude. You totally screamed like a girl there at the end.” John grinned at him, leaning against the door frame. He gestured with the chicken leg and mimed what Chris vaguely recognized as his ‘ahhh!’ face.

“I know, it was all I could do to keep from busting a nut laughing.” Karl’s voice was loud as it echoed down from where he was suspended from the landing’s rail. A few assistants were in the process of unstrapping him from the cables that kept him hanging. Now that the lights were up, Chris could see the harness he had hung in.

“What the fuck is happening?!” Chris’ shout brought everything to a standstill.

Zach began to look sheepish, worse than the time Chris woke up wearing the body glitter and the silver Louboutins.

“Oh, honey. Haven’t you guessed yet?” Zoe reached out one long, beautiful arm and Chris took it, automatically standing up when she tugged. She still looked like a murder victim, covered in blood. The branch through her chest almost bopped Chris on the nose.

“Guessed?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Simon snorted and elbowed Anton who looked like he was struggling to keep from braying laughter. As if on cue, they both pointed to the still-sheepish looking Zach.

Chris shot Zach a dirty look as another assistant handed him a bottle of water, like he’d been shooting a--

_Oh fucking motherfuckery fuck._

“Chris Pine? Hey, man. Nice to meet you.. well, officially.. I’m Eli. Your friends over there hired me to direct a .. well. I’m sure you guessed. I’m pleased to announce that you’re the first star in the newest _Before the Doo_ r production.”

“Zach?” Chris couldn’t keep the whine and fury from his voice. “Are you shitting me?”

Zach’s brows narrowed. He reached into his pocket for his phone. Chris was getting more and more furious as the seconds ticked by, uncomfortably aware that the others in the room were watching the two of them like a tennis match gone horribly awry. Practical jokes were all well and good, but... this?” Zach tapped the screen a few times, and Chris could hear his own voice, slurred with alcohol.

_“Yeah well, I don’t care. I don’t get scared at that sort of shit.”_

_“Oh come_ on _! Halloween? The Haunting? The Ring? Fuck, what about Friday the Thirteenth? Are you really telling me that Freddy didn’t scare the shit out of you when you were a kid?_ Zach sounded like Chris has just confessed to killing kittens in his off hours.

_“Nah. I laughed when Johnny Depp got smeared all over the ceiling.”_ Chris cringed, remembering the drunken night with an uncomfortable clarity. He had laughed and took another drink, had smirked at his friends who had sat around his living room, sprawled in various positions of drunken revelry.

_“That’s just sick.”_ Zoe sounded particularly offended. _“I bet that we could scare you if we really put our minds to it.”_

Chris heard his own voice as he scoffed with derision. _. “I seriously doubt that. That ‘scary’ nonsense is for people with no imagination.”_

Zach shut off the phone with a little smirk. “Er...” Zach winced taking a small, probably wise, step away from Chris. “ ...Happy Halloween?"

The End! :D

Heeeeeee! I hope you enjoyed the fic. Sorry for the complete lack of banter, but I didn't want to give away the end.

**2016 explanation of what the actual fuck:**

So. A long time ago, in a fandom far, far away, there was a guy named Eli who liked to fuck with his fans. Literally. As in cyber with them (back when people actually called cybersex...cybersex). And when yours truly found out that it had happened I had to read everything. As one does. Thein started the infamous ‘WOW HIS GRAMMAR’ comment. I was laughing about it in pinto chat with some friends and it started a ‘well that’s kind of fucked up what if he did ___’ right about the time Haunted Honeymoon came on and I had to watch it because that is comedy gold and VOILA. My brain vomited this. I think the orig version I left out Simon and Anton because I was too lazy to write two more deaths., so this version sort of has them in it but not really. :D

Anyway. Happy Halloween, folks. <3.


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